


Miss Me

by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)



Series: The AU Court [9]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Bottom Andrew Minyard, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post-The King's Men, Protective Neil Josten, Short One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 10:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15192986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: Andreil Week 2018|Day 6: Fistfight, Distance, Video Games-Neil manages to keep a low profile for most of the time that Andrew is gone.But some things require action. Some things like a freshman Fox. And someone told Andrew.





	Miss Me

It was, of course, one of Jeremy’s ideas to have a pre-season summer festival.

The ERC, of course, takes it as an opportunity for publicity. And teamwork, or whatever.

Neil is just content to have a day to relax. Well, sort of. They’re not playing Exy, but as athletes, they end up playing sports anyway. There’s a volleyball court and a soccer ball going around, and someone has a football. Neil just wanders around and keeps an eye on his teammates, who sometimes bring him into things.

It’s strange, not having any of his Foxes anymore. It’s been a while since the upperclassmen left, but he still thinks about them.

He definitely thinks about Andrew, all the time.

Sanchez predictably crushes the volleyball game. She brings Neil in at one point. He explains, “I don’t think I’m tall enough for this.”

“But you hit pretty damn hard.”

Neil doesn’t debate that, even though they both know the Foxes have never seen Neil hit another person. Neil ends up near the back of the formation, and he mainly hits the ball to Sanchez at every opportunity. It’s a weird role change from Exy.

It’s nice, though. The day is nice. Neil gets to watch the team he will leave at the end of the year, and he thinks—hopes—he’s done well enough to make them good. To keep them great. He trusts Sanchez to take up the mantle of captain, when he’s gone.

Somewhere in the middle of the day, Neil sits in a corner to eat hot dogs. He watches the people playing games and throwing water balloons in the setting sun and thinks about how much he wishes Andrew were there. He smiles when he thinks about how Andrew would just stare the whole time, except for when Neil would ask him to play a game. Then, he’d probably kill it.

Maybe take his shirt off. God, Neil hopes he would.

“Who the fuck invited him?”

One of the freshman. Darian. Neil thinks the kid is a lot like Seth; he’s abrasive and unsympathetic. In any other world, Neil would probably hate him. In this world, Neil only knows he has to teach him.

If only because he’s stuck with Darian, and the kid is pretty good at what he does on the court.

Neil turns his attention to the person Darian is pointing to. Jean. He’s sitting on the sidelines with Jeremy, who is watching the Trojans as their assistant coach, now.

“His team, I assume,” Neil says evenly. He really doesn’t want to fight. He has a hot dog left.

Kevin leaves the soccer game he was thinking of jumping into—Neil can see the gleam in his eyes from a mile away—and goes to Jeremy and Jean. He talks to them for a while and motions to something in Neil’s general direction.

Neil watches Jeremy and Jean follow Kevin. They’re close. He has a very, very bad feeling.

Darian proves him right.

“I’m not talking to that ex-Raven piece of shit.”

“Kevin was a Raven, too. You seem to talk with him just fine,” Neil says. He feels an itch in his veins. The smell of a fight lingers in the air like blood. This has been a long time coming, and he hasn’t been looking forward to it, but it’s the only possible outcome.

The best one, if Neil is being honest.

“I don’t give a shit about Kevin. At least he left.”

“You’re talking about things you have no clue about.”

“What, and you do?”

“I do. Now, if you’re done airing your trust issues, can I eat? I’d rather not sit through the mommy issues part of the presentation.”

The thing is, Neil knows how to use his words. To Wymack’s despair, he only managed to get better with time. He’s very good at knowing what to say, these days.

It was the wrong thing to say. Which means, it was the right thing.

Neil watches Darian roar and lurch across the table. He mourns his hot dog for five seconds before he pushes the plate out of reach.

The music and the party is too loud for anyone to notice what’s happening. Anyone but Kevin, Jeremy, and Jean. Neil watches them pick up speed while Darian shoves him to the ground.

Neil tries to tell himself to be a good leader. That he shouldn’t fight Darian, even if Darian is fighting him. But Darian pins him down and leans over him and says, “I bet you get off on this. You make me do it on purpose? Missing your little psycho?”

“I’d stop talking, if I were you.” Neil tries to count to ten. Tries to think that this is not about him. It’s about Darian, and that’s something he should show patience for.

“Is that why you’re so ready to defend Jean? He nail you too, while you were busy feeling bad for him? I should have guessed you had a thing for worthless monsters. I bet Kevin’s happy to have you to himself, now.”

Okay, Neil thinks. That’s enough.

He braces his feet against the ground and punches Darian across the face. He watches the freshman roll back, a startled noise leaving his mouth as blood appears under his nose. The footsteps come closer behind him. Neil rolls over Darian and presses an arm against his neck.

“Neil,” Kevin says, quick.

Neil holds up a finger. “One minute. I’m coaching.”

“Neil.” This time it’s exasperated.

Neil ignores Kevin and pulls Darian’s head up by his hair. He looks sideways at him, impassive, and then looks up at Jean.

To his credit, Jean doesn’t flinch. He just looks between Darian and Neil with blank curiosity.

Neil leans against Darian and says, “Apologize.”

“Fuck y—”

“Apologize,” Neil repeats. He raises his voice just a little but doesn’t do anything else. He’s not going to kick Darian when he’s down. Physically, at least. “I won’t ask again. And if you think I can’t get you off the team, I can. Consider that.”

“I’m sorry,” Darian says. The words come out through his gritted teeth and he doesn’t quite meet Jean’s eyes.

“Why?” Jean asks Neil.

Neil drops Darian and gets to his feet. His chest is sore from the weight Darian put on it. “You don’t need to know. It was bad enough, hearing it once. I don’t want it repeated.”

Jeremy give Neil an appraising look. He probably doesn’t approve of the fighting, but it’s clear he saw that Neil didn’t fight back until the last minute. Maybe he knows. Neil doesn’t care.

Kevin looks like he’s going to talk, but then Darian’s hand pulls Neil’s leg and he’s going down with his hands pressed to the grass to catch himself. Kevin shouts something at Darian, but Neil just twists in his grip. Darian gets a few punches in and Neil doesn’t move. He uses what he knows and stays still; waits for it to end.

By the time Kevin gets Darian away, Wymack is there and livid.

Neil doesn’t mind the bruises. He shrugs them off and looks for the rest of his team. Sanchez watches him from the cooler of drinks across the park, and her short nod says she was watching. She knows.

“How many years, and you still haven’t learned to keep your mouth shut?” Kevin asks. It’s all bark and no bite.

“I lost track,” Neil says. He shrugs. “How many years and you can’t stay ten feet from Jeremy?”

Kevin whacks him across the head. He runs his fingers through Neil’s hair afterwards, though.

Maybe Neil shouldn’t have fought back, but he thinks Darian is going to learn his lesson. After all, sometimes you have to break a bone to set it.

* * *

“You could look happier,” Wymack says. Andrew throws him a dirty look.

“In what universe would that happen?” Neil murmurs.

Andrew stands at the entrance to the court, backpack on his shoulder and hair messy, and Neil wants to run to him. He wants to hold Andrew and kiss him; he wants to feel his skin, wants to—

—he wants too much, and he needs to calm down.

Neil sighs and claps Sanchez on the shoulder. Practice was almost over, anyway. “Run them through three more sets, and then you can all leave.”

Someone wolf-whistles when Neil moves off the court. He makes a mental note to ask Sanchez later and give them extra laps.

Andrew doesn’t say anything while they go back to the dorms. Neil and Kevin’s shared room looks probably exactly the same as it did when Andrew and Aaron were in it. There may be a few more posters and things to make it lived-in, but neither Neil nor Kevin have ever needed much.

Neil is barely through the door when Andrew locks it and rounds on him.

“I can’t fucking leave you anywhere,” Andrew says.

Neil is half amused and half surprised. He lets Andrew peel off Neil’s shirt and pants, stripping him down methodically. Andrew’s gaze brushes over every inch of skin and stops at the bruises he finds. His frown twists a little more with each one. Neil bites his bottom lip and tries not to laugh.

He really shouldn’t. Andrew cares. That is more than he ever dreamed of.

“I actually didn’t start it,” Neil says. “You’d be proud of me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot.”

It’s a simple exchange. Neil catches Andrew’s eye and feels a painful flutter in his chest. He wonders if Andrew flew or drove to see him. He wonders who told Andrew, and if he thought he would find Neil in some other state. He wonders, and then he leans in.

Andrew presses against a bruise and Neil jumps, a hiss of annoyance escaping his lips. Andrew pointedly looks into his eyes. “You’re serious.”

“I am serious,” Neil says. It wasn’t phrased like a question, but Neil knows it is. “Yes? Or no?”

Years later, he no longer has to ask about kisses and brief touches in public. This, though—this, he will always ask about. Always.

Andrew would look bored, to anyone else. To Neil, he looks like he’s finally breathing in. He is finally allowing fresh air and life.

“Yes,” Andrew says, like it’s a chore. It’s not.

Neil kisses Andrew and remembers that he forgot how to breathe. He remembers how good it feels to simply be held and to have someone so entirely. Neil has given all of himself to Andrew, over and over again. He’s grateful for any pieces of Andrew that he gets.

Andrew gives. He gives when his hands slide over Neil’s bare chest, and when his head tilts so his tongue can slide against Neil’s.

Maybe it doesn’t matter that Andrew should probably be somewhere else, right now. Maybe it doesn’t matter that Neil technically has twenty minutes until Kevin might come back. All that matters is that Andrew is here to hold him, and Neil never wants anything more.

“Maybe I should get into more fights,” Neil mumbles against Andrew’s mouth.

Andrew bites his lip in response. It is the exact opposite of a punishment. Neil feels a little dizzy and he can’t blame it on practice. Andrew is pulling him toward the bedroom and Neil just follows, because he will always follow Andrew’s direction.

“I missed you,” Neil says, when Andrew moves back to pull his shirt off. Andrew pauses halfway through hand Neil gently takes the offending clothing away. He leans back in to kiss Andrew and starts to say something else, but then there’s a voice on his mouth.

It’s so quiet it’s almost not there, but Andrew says, “I missed you.”

It’s a whisper that could be a scream. Neil thinks his heart is spilling at the seams. He grounds himself in Andrew’s touch, his hands moving over muscle, and Neil stumbles toward his bed. He is so very distracted; by Andrew’s breath, his body, and everything else about the moment. Neil waits for Andrew to lie down before he leans over and kisses him, anticipation on his tongue.

Neil moves back and hovers near Andrew’s stomach. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Andrew’s eyes are dark. Neil pulls his sweatpants away; the same black and orange ones from when he was here, and Neil thinks with an aching heart that Andrew did that on purpose. Neil leans down and finds Andrew’s cock waiting for him, so he opens his mouth and takes Andrew on his tongue.

He’s always liked the way it feels when Andrew’s hand tangles in his hair and pulls. He likes the way it’s soft and sharp at the same time. He very much likes the way that Andrew unravels under him.

It took a long time for Andrew to feel comfortable receiving anything, but Neil taught him. He taught Andrew with silence and patience. With pints of ice cream and the sweaters Neil bought for Christmas. With cigarettes and rooftops, kisses and questions.

Maybe it took time, but Neil has all the time in the world now. He doesn’t care how much of it Andrew takes. In fact, he hopes Andrew takes all of it.

Andrew lets out a small gasp when Neil moves. Neither of them have plans to make this last; there isn’t much time—at least that Neil knows of—and they at least have the rest of the night. So Neil waits only a minute for Andrew to start writhing on the bed, a hot blush on his cheeks and his hand tight in Neil’s hair.

Neil moves up to Andrew’s face and smiles. He likes the way Andrew tries to glare, but in bed, it looks more like a pout. More like he wants Neil to come back and is annoyed that he left in the first place.

“What do you want?” Neil asks. He moves closer and presses a kiss to the corner of Andrew’s mouth. He reaches for the bedside table with one arm while he waits for an answer.

When Neil comes back, Andrew looks just the same. Petulant and impatient. “You.”

Of course, Andrew doesn’t add. You, of course. Neil just feels his heart skip a beat. He snaps the lube open and barely notices Andrew unwrap a condom.

Andrew watches Neil steadily the entire time he slides the condom on. Neil tries to stay focused, but with Andrew’s hands on him, he can’t help but close his eyes for a second. Andrew’s mouth is on his stomach, a kiss and the way he tastes Neil’s skin the way he loves to. Neil waits for him to settle back.

“I missed you. I’m glad you missed me,” Neil says conversationally. Andrew’s eyes narrow a little, but his breath hitches when Neil slides a finger into him. There’s a tiny twitch and flex, but Neil keeps working.

He is an idiot, but he wasn’t lying when he said he was Andrew’s. There are terribly stupid things that Neil does, but Andrew loves those things. He loves them, and Neil loves that he loves them.

“I missed the way you taste,” Neil says. The hitch is back when Andrew inhales; it sounds loud in the empty room. Neil adds a finger. “I missed how warm you are. I missed the way your skin feels in my hands.”

“Shut up,” Andrew says, but he doesn’t say stop. He is redder than before and he closes his eyes like that’s how he hears things.

“I missed the way your hair looks when you roll out of bed at noon on Saturday.”

“Yours looks fucking worse.”

“I missed the way you always ask me for ice cream when you’re in nothing but underwear.”

“You— _ah_ —fucking do the same thing. Whe—when you ask me to— _shit_ —go for a run with you.”

Andrew breathes heavily and Neil leans closer. He lines himself up and waits to make the switch. He moves his fingers out right when he says, “I missed the noises you make when we’re having sex.”

Neil punctuates his sentence with a careful push, and then Andrew gasps and his fingers dig into Neil’s arm. His head pushes back against the pillow under his head, and Neil has a full view of the blush on his face and the way he swallows harshly.

“Then stop talking and move,” Andrew hisses. He’s not intimidating at all.

Neil still moves, anyway.

He pushes into Andrew with the same care he always uses. They go slow because it’s safe and because they don’t need to rush things. This isn’t about how they do it; it’s about how Neil is able to get this close at all. How he can be flush against Andrew without making him feel trapped or unsafe.

The one thing Neil has done right is made Andrew feel safe.

He can admit that much. He can also admit that they are both already too keyed-up to last if they wanted to. Andrew’s hands grip Neil’s arms tighter, and then his back comes off the bed and he clenches tighter around Neil. He comes with a gasp and his face turned sideways, so Neil can see the curve of his neck and the way his eyelashes fan across red cheeks.

It doesn’t take much more for Neil to finish. He has the most beautiful image before him and the sensation of Andrew pulling him in. He feels stars burst behind his closed eyes and then he’s buzzing through the aftermath, with the sounds of their breathing harsh in the bedroom.

Andrew speaks first. “You smell.”

Neil laughs. He laughs and leans in to kiss Andrew one last time, before he moves away gingerly. He always tries to go slow. “Maybe. Now you do, too.”

Andrew rolls his eyes, but his hand finds Neil’s neck and drags him down again. He waits until they’re close before he mumbles against Neil’s lips, “Shower. Dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Neil says. He chuckles and lets Andrew pull him into another kiss.

They don’t get up for another five minutes, but Neil doesn’t mind.

After the shower and changing, Neil starts to leave the dorm—until he notices Andrew standing in the common area, staring at the television.

“What’s this?”

Neil looks. It’s a stack of green-tipped, thin boxes. “Video games.”

Andrew looks at him, disbelieving. One eyebrow is bunched more than the other. Neil smiles to himself and looks at the console next to the games.

“Matt visited a few months ago. Some of the freshmen like it. Matt said there’s no Exy game, but we have soccer.”

Andrew shakes his head and moves toward the door. “Junkie.”

“Your junkie,” Neil says.

Andrew doesn’t argue.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i am here  
> i hope you enjoyed this stupid story because i literally created it around the idea of neil decking someone when he was trying real hard to be a Good Captain


End file.
